


Relics

by lilyleia78



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Ascension, First Time, M/M, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-24
Updated: 2012-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-30 01:19:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyleia78/pseuds/lilyleia78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of my responses to Five items of junk they got rid of the first time Daniel ascended was Avalanche ticket stubs. In the comments I told someone that I thought Daniel could probably find them in Jack's nightstand. Here's what happens when he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relics

**Author's Note:**

  * For [serpentine85](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=serpentine85).



Daniel glanced warily around Jack’s bedroom as he crossed to the far side of the room. Feeling irrationally guilty, he reached for the nightstand. This was a really bad idea. Digging through another man’s nightstand was a big no-no. What if Jack kept something embarrassing in there? Rogaine or dirty magazines, or – _oh god_ – sex toys? Daniel really didn’t want to know what kind of lubrication Jack favored while he masturbated.   
  
No, scratch that – what kind of lube Jack used while he masturbated was exactly the sort of thing Daniel wanted to know, but he shouldn’t. At least, he shouldn’t know, _wanting_ never hurt anyone. Never hurt anyone besides himself anyway. Besides, it just wasn’t something a man should know about his friend, not when said friend was straight and part of an organization that all but mandated homophobia.   
  
But no, he was being stupid. Jack had told him he could grab a new notebook from this drawer; there’s no way Jack would deliberately point him toward his secret stash of butt plugs and lube - unfortunately. Shaking off the pointless circle of his thoughts, Daniel braced himself and slid the drawer open.  
  
Nothing jumped out at him; in fact, it was possibly the most boring drawer in the history of nightstand drawers. Daniel rummaged through bits of paper, an assortment of pencils and pens, two Louis L’amour paperbacks, and a handful of fishhooks before spotting three pocket-sized notebooks toward the back.   
  
With a soft exclamation of triumph, Daniel pulled out the nearest one. He flipped through the lined book quickly, checking that it was empty, and two small slips of laminated paper fell out. He bent to retrieve them and was about to drop them back into the organized chaos of the drawer when he recognized what he held – Avalanche ticket stubs. More specifically, his Avalanche ticket stubs. Jack must have held onto them when he found them in Daniel’s old apartment after Daniel had ‘gone glowy,’ but why?  
  
Daniel shook his head at his own foolishness; Jack had probably wondered the same thing about him. Jack probably never would have kept them if he knew Daniel had hoarded them like a girl saving her prom tickets.  
  
“Daniel,” Jack’s voice drifted in from down the hall, and Daniel was startled to hear footsteps approaching.  
  
It was a testament to how distracted he was that Daniel didn’t even consider hiding the tickets. He turned to the door and held up the tickets, smiling slightly and asking a question with his eyes.  
  
“What you got there?” Jack asked, moving deeper into the room to get a better look.  
  
“I don’t know, Jack. They look like ticket stubs to that game we went to a couple years back. But I don’t know why you would’ve swiped them from the crap in my house.” Deciding to that the old adage - best offensive is a good defense – was a truism, Daniel added with a casualness he didn’t feel, “Unless you were planning to make a scrapbook of our first date?” And he deliberately batted his eyelashes the way Jack was always – unfairly - accusing him of doing to passing strangers.  
  
To his astonishment, Jack flushed red. Jack never…he couldn’t possibly be _blushing_. Daniel stared in mild alarm from his friend to the tickets and back again, pieces of the puzzle falling into place.  
  
“Jack,” he said softly, interrupting whatever Jack was about to say in retaliation. “I don’t need a scrapbook; my memory of that is perfectly clear.” Daniel gathered his not inconsiderable courage to himself and looked at the floor before he pushed on, “A second date would be nice though.”  
  
Daniel found himself on his feet and in the circle of Jack’s arms before he was quite aware of what was happening. He had time for one startled bark of laughter, and then Jack’s mouth was on his, stealing his words, his breath, every thought in his head except for _Jack_.  
  
When Jack reluctantly let go so they could breath, Daniel flopped down on the bed, pulling Jack down to lay beside him, pulling the other man tight to his side. “So,” he asked, mischievous and curious, “did you keep anything else I should know about?”  
  
Jack remained nonchalant, although Daniel thought the tips of his ears may have gone slightly pink. “Oh, maybe one or two things.” Daniel raised his eyebrows expectantly.  
  
Jack gave a too casual shrug and his next words sent a thrill of anticipation through Daniel, pooling low in his belly. “You know, just a few personal items from your nightstand.”


End file.
